


Human Error

by JensenCollins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sam Knows, Sub Dean, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, deanisbadwithfeelings, dom Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 17:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13816176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JensenCollins/pseuds/JensenCollins
Summary: Cas shows up in the middle of a hunt and Dean tries his best to continue to hide his growing feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! This is my first fanfiction I'm gonna be posting online so any comments or suggestions are highly appreciated! Thanks. Gonna be updating weekly or so, but that might change as time goes on. Tags will also be updated as time goes on.

Dean thrashes his limbs numbly, fumbling for an escape that doesn't exist. 

"Cas - Cas, please!" His body is sent into violent spasms and he is coated in a cold sweat. "Cas! Pull me out of Hell...!" Dean's voice is more of a whimper now, and tears are streaming down his face. 

Unbeknownst to Dean, Castiel sits at the end of the shabby motel bed, muttering Enochian to the human. Sam lays awake in the next bed over, probably about three feet away. Dean's nightmares had been worse lately, but he hadn't shared that with his brother. It would only piss him off more (although he'd been more moody than normal lately). 

Dean's breathing eventually slowed back to a normal pace, his face no longer twisted into a tortured expression. Cas stayed there watching over Dean until Sam fell asleep again. He was always gone before Dean woke up. 

Sam never said anything about these nights. 

<<>>

"Screw this hunt to hell," Dean slams the trunk of the Impala dramatically. The brothers were investigating a possible vampire case, and it was proving to be trying on Dean and Sam's patience with each other. They'd already agreed on booking separate rooms for the night, both being just generally done with the other. Dean heads off his separate way, as does Sam, to his respective room. 

Dean closes and bolts his door, shutting the thick privacy curtains and momentarily contemplating the pay per view options. Deciding he's not in the mood, Dean kicks off his shoes and socks and changes into some boxers and an AC/DC shirt. He finishes off his snack pack of goldfish as he turns the lights off and plops down on the bed. 

He knows he hasn't been sleeping lately. Dean's been lucky to get two hours of it, honestly. The nightmares were horrendous, taking him straight back to those forty years of being tortured and torturing. Every once in a while though, when the scene is particularly bad, Cas shows up - well, in his dream, of course, to help him out, to whisper to him and to hold him. He's a busy guy, and it's not like he could take time out of his schedule to actually help Dean, as far as real life goes. He realises now how entitled and sarcastic that sounds. To be honest, he wished he saw the angel more; he was literally the only people he felt like he could be open with, and the personal space (or lack thereof) was a plus, too. 

More often then not, Dean found himself... thinking about Cas, and he had, more than once, and completely by accident of course, called out Cas's name as he jerked off in the shower. But that didn't mean anything, right? And even if it did, the guy was above human emotion and even if he wasn't, Cas definitely wouldn't want Dean of all people. And Cas is his best friend, right? Thinking about him and worrying about him and fantasising about him are normal. Probably. Okay, yeah, he kinda was a little... into Cas but it's not like he actually believes he has a chance, not really. Still though, god how he dreamt of the man... the angel, a being a millennia old, so much power and knowledge pulsing, just sitting there, under a thin layer of warm, malleable flesh. 

Internally telling himself to shut up, Dean rolls over and focuses almost completely on sleeping. Half-focuses on sleeping... yeah, no, Dean's definitely thinking about Cas... thinking about what he could do with his hands... what he could do with his tongue... 

Dean does, eventually, after much self-chastising, fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a wet dream and Cas may or may not have noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. Future ones will probably be longer.

Damn. 

First night in god knows how long that Dean had gotten an actually decent sleep. Better than decent, actually. Cas... Cas had been in his, uh... dream. At one point, Dean could've sworn that he woke up to a soft press of lips to his own, but that was obviously just his brain screwing with him. His twelve year old, horny as fuck, brain. 

"Christ..." Dean moans as he gets up out of the bed, finding that he's still half-hard. Dean nearly shits himself as he notices a trench coat-clad figure seated in a chair adjacent to the bed. "Fucking hell!"

"Hello Dean."

"You coulda', y'know, announced yourself or something." Dean grabs for some jeans or blankets or anything to make him feel less like a teenage girl at a slumber party. He feels so exposed, which is damn annoying for him, since he usually doesn't give a shit who sees him naked. He stuffs himself into yesterday's jeans (quite uncomfortably. He can't remember the last time they'd been washed).

"I did not want to wake you, Dean. You seemed... pleased." Cas is staring intently at Dean, his gaze unwavering. 

"So you were just... watching me sleep? Dude, that's creepy as hell."

Cas is genuinely confused. "But Hell is not creepy. It is more of... pure pain, I suppose. I thought you would know, seeing as how you went on a trip there a while back."

Dean literally face-palms. "No that's not what I - y'know what? Never mind, Cas. Long story short, don't fucking watch people sleep, okay?"

"Yes, Dean." He looks like he's making a literal mental note. He probably is. 

"Why're you here, anyway?"

Cas seems only slightly offended. "I have news on the case you are working on that should prove to be most helpful. I'm sure Sam would like to know as well?"

He's sure Sam would like to sleep. "Yeah, sure Cas. Lemme go just wake up my already pissed off brother at six in the morning. He'd love that." Cas narrows his eyes. 

"You talk in your sleep." Out of the blue. What is that even supposed to mean? "You called for me. You call for me often, but this... this was different. I oftentimes come to whisper Enochian to you when your nightmares are particularly bad, but last night, as you likely know, you hardly had a nightmare. And still you called - moaned, more like - and I still came." That's what she said. Dean can't look Cas in the eye; he feels his face become red and curses himself for being an idiot. 

Dean crosses the room toward the door and Cas gives him a questioning look. "Waking up Sam for you. Happy?"

"Incredibly."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam leaves Cas and Dean in town while he goes to check out another lead on a case in southern Michigan. Without Sam as a cockblock, emotions begin to present themselves on both Dean and Cas's part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's chapter three. I'd really appreciate any suggestions as I'm sort of hitting a wall of writers' block. (I have written the next few chapters already which I will be posting later, so like don't get mad if suggestions aren't taken into consideration in the next few chapters or so.)

<<<>>>

It turned out to be a shapeshifter. They were all tired, even Cas, in his own way. (Cas had decided to join in on the hunt. He hadn't anything better to do, apparently.) Once they'd killed the son of a bitch, Dean just wanted to sleep for a millennia or two. Sam had gotten a call from one of Dad's old contacts and was heading to southern Michigan to check out a lead. He'd assured Dean and Cas that he had it covered, probably way more than necessary. Damn his little brother; It's like he already knew something was going on, which was definitely more than Dean knew himself, at this point. 

"We usually stick around town another day or two. Make sure everything's gone." Dean, seated on the rickety twin bed, flicks through the newspaper as Cas, sitting on the floor, cross legged, scrolls through the television channels, occasionally asking questions and such. To be honest, Dean is going crazy. Being so close to Cas, so damn close, but not being able to do anything about it, it's killing him. So he stares across the room, at the quiet fascination spread across Cas's face, the way his eyebrows shift when something interests or confuses him, his tongue as it flicks out of his mouth to wet his beautiful lips. 

"Dean..." Cas's voice is a low rumble in his throat. His eyes have turned to meet Dean's, and they stare into him, straight through him. "Why are you staring at me, Dean?"

Dean finds himself physically unable to speak. It's like there's something lodged somewhere inside of him that blocks the air from reaching his lungs. He takes a deep, shuddering, gasping breath as Cas continues to openly stare at him. 

"I'm - I'm, uh, I'm not - I'm not staring." Fuck. Even to Dean his broken sentence is an admission. 

"Do not lie to me, Dean." God damnit, those eyes. So full of knowledge and power and wisdom and pain and fear and... something Dean isn't willing to place yet. "I've seen your soul. Your perfect, brilliant, immaculate soul. I've seen how broken you are, how flawed, how self loathing, but your soul, it's the most infatuating thing I've ever laid my own two eyes on in my entire existence. And I know what you want, Dean. And I... I want..." His once-unwavering gaze softens and he looks to the floor, in what can only be described as defeat. 

"Well I'm gonna... head off to, uh, to bed." Cas makes a sound that Dean thinks might be disappointment, a groan in the back of his throat. A shiver runs through him, but Dean stands his ground, bashfully shucking off his jeans and pushing the covers overtop of himself. 

"Goodnight, Dean." His voice is exasperated, and it follows him as he falls asleep. 

<>

When he wakes up, Dean is vaguely aware that someone is screaming. He eventually realizes it's him screaming. 

And then he's being wrapped in a strong embrace, a warm body pressed against his back. He's too damn tired to think about who or what or why. 

He drifts away again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *denial intensifies*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late. Been prepping for exams and staying late working on a school production - I'll try to be on time next week!  
> As always, thank you guys for comments and kudos and hell, even just reading my crappy writing.

<<>>

"Cas...?"

This is a dream. Yes, yes definitely a dream. Or maybe he got drunk and found some male hooker on the street with great arms and a thing for spooning instead of fucking. Yeah, that's probably it. That explains the way muscular arms are tucked protectively around Dean's torso, knees bent and pressed perfectly against the backs of Dean's legs, and the way that a chin rests fitted just so with his shoulder, rough stubble against bare skin, and it also explains the scent of denim and rain and motel shampoo and Cas. 

"Cas...?" Dean repeats, more insistently this time. He receives a gravelly hum (of approval?) from behind him, savouring the way it reverberates through his chest. Dean attempts to struggle free from the grip, but it is only tightened in response. "Cas, let me go, damnit, I need to piss." He eventually decides to loosen his grip, freeing Dean enough, albeit reluctantly, for him to rush to the toilet. Dean glances back at the bed. 

Fuck. 

There's a half-naked, boxer-clad, bed headed, hot-as-literal-hell Castiel sprawled across the cheap, motel mattress, sheets thrown across his legs so that his ass is basically free for viewing, which Dean takes a nice sample of. Dean heads into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him with a deliberate thud. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. 

Dean stares at his reflection in the chipped mirror, contemplating how completely and utterly screwed he is. All of him is just screaming to go back out there and tangle tongues with the angel, but... damnit, he knows what he wants, and has for a long time, but here's no way in hell that Cas'd want anyone, and certainly not Dean of all people. 

He finishes his business, splashes cold water on his face, and prepares himself to head back out to face the music. Finally working up the courage, Dean goes back out into the room, putting on his go-to facade: a charming smile and playboy attitude. He notices that Cas had put his trench coat back on, but half of the buttons on his shirt remained undone, he is still in his black boxers, his tie even more a mess than usual. God, Dean could get used to waking up to even messier-headed Cas every morning. And got how he wanted to get this man back into bed and do so many things to him. 

"Heya, Cas," Dean is trying so hard to be casual that it's painful, and even Cas can probably tell it's false. 

"Hello, Dean." Those fucking eyes. Dean swears he notices the angel's gaze flick to his mouth for a moment, but he just licks his lips self-consciously and tells himself it's just his mind screwing with him. 

And they stand there for a moment. 

Gazing. Maybe longingly. Definitely longingly, but Dean keeps on denying that. 

"Breakfast?"

"Of course."

<>

They end up and the shitty, ever-common, small-town diner. He and Sam had eaten there just a few days ago, but it was this or a bar down a block; the two only options in a town like this. Dean orders French toast and Cas gets a coffee, but does have a bit of Dean's French toast. 

Breakfast is quiet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awkward car ride leads to a steamy encounter against the motel wall.  
> I had fun with this one ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS IM SO SORRY THAT IM SO LATE my family has been on vacation and I haven't had a stable internet connection in a week - blah blah excuses - IM GONNA TRY REAL HARD TO STAY POSTING AS MUCH AS I CAN FROM NOW ON  
> as always kudos and comments are always appreciated. Thanks yall

In the Impala on the way back to the motel, Dean can't take it anymore. 

"Are we just gonna not talk about it?" His voice is strained and he blinks rapidly. 

"About what?" Cas is just asking to hear Dean say it, he's sure of it. 

"About... about last night..." Dean sounds as though he's in physical pain. 

Cas sighs. "What do you wish to talk about it? You had a nightmare, the worst nightmare I had seen you experience, and I aided you in the way I thought was best." 

"But," a thought clicks into place, "you, an angel, don't sleep. So you laid there all night just... holding me...?" Cas simply nods, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. Dean swallows, blushing hard. "What about... what about what you were talking about the other night? About how you know what I want?"

They're at the motel now. Dean hesitates but gets out of Baby; Cas follows him into the motel room. The angel stands facing Dean, who's leaning on the wall, mostly to keep himself upright, at this point. 

"What do you want, Dean?" Damnit, Cas's voice is a rumble in his throat and it sets Dean's stomach alight. A minuscule moan escapes Dean's lips. This does not go unnoticed by the angel. 

Cas slowly crosses the room, stopping when he stands Directly in front of Dean. All Dean can think about is how close their lips are and how he can feel Cas's hot breath on his neck and how easy it would be to connect their mouths and how much he wants Cas and how fucking gorgeous this man looks up close and how Dean thinks he can place that look in his eyes now. 

Holy shit. 

Does Cas... like him...?

Dean's generally more about taking action and, in these situations, hardly one to beat around the bush when it comes down to it. But they're alone, truly alone, right now, and Dean’s given up on trying to suppress this, so what’s stopping them - what’s fucking stopping them? But this— this isn’t his usual hook up or strike out scenario, though it’s been a long time since that’s been his approach. This is Cas for Christ’s sake.

"I... I want... you..."

Cas presses a fraction of an inch closer; Dean's brain is short-circuiting. Their noses are basically fucking touching. 

"You have me."

And Cas lets Dean close the space between them and holy shit this is better than Dean imagined - he half-believes this is a dream still but Cas's lips are so soft as he flicks his tongue across Dean's bottom lip. He tastes like maple syrup and coffee with too much creamer; he tastes perfect. Cas is restrained, though, Dean can tell. Like he's still unsure or something; testing the waters, giving Dean a chance to back out, as if he would ever. Cas pulls back, staring into Dean's eyes with a fondness Dean recognises. 

"I have dreamt of this." Cas's voice mirrors Dean's thoughts exactly. "This and oh so much more." Dean's breath catches in his throat. "I very much would like to kiss you again."

"Have at me."

A mischievous smirk forms on Cas's face. The way his eyes seem to sparkle, it's definitely the definition of a chick flick moment but it's Cas. He's always been an exception. Cas presses against him again, taking more action this time, and he's obviously the one dominating this encounter, which is one thing Dean's always thought was kinda hot, about him specifically and other guys he'd slept with over the years. Cas's impossibly capable mouth has Dean struggling to suppress moans, so when he finally does cry out he's initially embarrassed, until he feels how it sends a shiver of pleasure down the angel's spine. If kissing Cas is better than sex... 

One of Dean's hands rests on Cas's hip, and the other is entangled in thick hair. Cas pulls away and they both breathe thoroughly, out of breath. 

"I could kiss you for eternity," Cas hums against Dean's neck, where he traces his tongue, latching onto a place on his jaw where Dean knows a mark will be forming. "I want..." Cas moves so that his mouth is pressed against Dean's ear, all hot breath and wet lips. "To make you mine."

"What're you waiting for?"

"I want your approval." Cas nuzzles his nose in the place behind Dean's ear, sending a tremor down his spine. "Before we continue."

"Didn't I... already give it to you?" Dean is having a hard time focusing enough to form words, which can't exactly be held against him, given his current position. 

"I want to hear you say it." This is a command, Cas's voice firm, certain he's going to get what he wants (and he most certainly is). Dean is, after all, within Castiel's charge. 

"Cas..." Dean whimpers, and the eyes that shift to him send his heart racing again. "You have my permission..."

Cas isn't satisfied. "To what?"

"To... take me." The smile that curls onto Cas's lips is a crime in itself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean do the do.   
> *smut intensifies*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wanted to get this done Saturday, but shit happened but aaaaaanyway shit gets real in this chapter. May or may not be the last chapter (I feel this wraps it up okay but might have an idea involving our favourite Trickster)  
> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated ~

Dean hears his phone buzz. Fuck. Cas straightens up and takes two steps back from Dean, but the eye fucking that continues is intense. 

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean runs a hand across his face. 

"So get this - " He pauses. "Are you... okay?"

Dean tries to snicker nonchalantly but that doesn't work out too well. "Yeah, 'course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You sound out of breath...? Hang on... are you screwing Cas right now?" Sam snorts but is all too serious. 

"Wh - I've got no idea what you're talking about, Sammy."

"Yeah, sure. Call me back when you're done with... whoever you're doing." Sam, the little shit, hung up before Dean could get another word in. 

Dean glances as Cas. "Sam says hi."

 

“Yes, he does say that word from time to time,” Cas agrees. This guy - god love him - goes from dominating sex god to confused kitten in literally two seconds. 

“Hey, Cas?” The angel tilts his head. “Could you take this off?” Dean pulls at the lapels of Cas’ trench coat, and Cas complies with curiosity, hanging the garment off the back of the cheap kitchenette chair. “And this?” The suit jacket is removed as well, folded and draped over the same chair. The tie Dean takes care of himself, meticulously loosening and removing the garment, it also being put on the chair that Dean hopes will eventually hold all of Cas's clothing. 

“This doesn't seem fair,” Cas grumbles, causing Dean to chuckle. “You're still fully dressed.” 

Dean holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, okay, fine. How d’you want me?” 

Cas contemplates for a moment. “You would like to have intercourse with me, correct, Dean?”

“I - uh - if you uh - wanted.” Dean reddens, his confidence from before gone. Cas simply nods, glancing over toward the motel room’s unmade bed. 

“Remove your shoes and outermost flannel and lay on the bed, if that is acceptable to you, Dean.” Cas's expression is thoughtful, but the words hold an implication that has Dean throbbing in his private areas. 

He does as he's told. 

Once he's lying lengthwise across the mattress, Cas approaches him, kicking off his own shoes, hunger in his eye. He climbs overtop Dean, knees either side of Dean's body, straddling him. Cas trails his hands down Dean's sides, sliding thumbs under the hem of the shirt, looking to Dean for approval (which he does in fact receive) before removing it. Dean can feel Cas's hardness against himself, and simply perceiving how much the angel appears to want him elicits a short moan from the man on bottom. Cas chuckles, nibbling at Dean's collar bone. 

“Ah - christ, Cas. Don't be a - ah - tease.” 

“You seem,” Cas removes the hunter’s belt, “to be enjoying it.” The angel further strips Dean until he only wears a singular layer of boxers. “These must go,” and they, too, are gone. Cas gasps an audible ‘oh’ when he gazes upon Dean’s uncovered form for the first time. Dean tries his hardest to remember Castiel’s face in this moment, mouth agape, blue eyes shining and alive, and just merely the thought that he has affected Cas in this way sends something sweltering, coursing through his chest. 

Cas reaches a hand to stroke Dean’s length, which is already fully hard, as his (unfairly capable) mouth continues to explore Dean’s top half. 

Is this guy ever gonna finish up the foreplay? Dean thinks fondly, and, as if on cue, and possibly using some angel mojo, Cas flips Dean over onto his stomach, from somewhere conjuring a bottle of lubricant. He begins with entering a singular digit into the man, adding one when he felt that Dean was ready for it. With his other hand he had managed to undo his belt and fly. Dean let out a sound akin to a whine, and, gasping, he felt Castiel enter him. 

“C - ah - Cas… yes, oh god yes.”

After a time, Castiel let out a strangled cry of “Dean” before releasing into his righteous man, Dean going over the edge with him. 

~

The two men lay entangled in each other and a mess of bedsheets, a mass of limbs and skin and fabric. Slick skin and synchronized breaths lulled Dean into a sleep. Cas, propped on an elbow, gazes through thick eyelashes at the eldest Winchester, freckles, tanned skin, love marks trailing along his neck; at the handprint left by the burn of Castiel’s grace into flesh of the damned imprinted on Dean's arm; relaxed lips and messy hair that Cas is somehow exhilarated by, every time he comes across the man. 

Castiel had been told he had “fallen in every way imaginable” and, at the time, it seemed like an insult. Now, however, he found that he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
